In Every Sense of The Word
by comeonbabyplaymesomething
Summary: It isn't a love story. Except when it is.


**In Every Sense of the Word**

It isn't a love story. Not in any sense of the word. They are both too stubborn to permit any such naive notions. She has had perfection before, clung to it determinedly only to have it ripped apart and laid at her feet. He is much too damaged to even recognize the concept. Love is an abstract idea because he has never felt it mutually. He has loved and been loved, but never at the same time.

As the world falls apart they grow even more entangled. Voices low and heads close as they scheme over the latest crisis. He isn't her first choice, they both know it, but he's determined to make her forget it. He just can't figure out how and neither can she.

Stefan's presence isn't exactly helping things. His amused smiles when he catches the two together, muttered comments that make her face flash white and then a deep red. If this were three years ago having to exist like this would drive Damon to violence. To lash out at his brother because he just didn't care. But he has a new reality now. Where he is actually…guilty about this situation. That Stefan has been robbed of his humanity in chaos that originated trying to save Damon's life is something he actually cares about. Resents and regrets.

But she is worse. He still hasn't gotten the full details of what went on in the gym. The wound on her neck and the dead look in her eyes tell him enough. Guilt doesn't really describe it. It is a new pain, jagged and unceasing, that seems to grip his heart like a vice. It won't go away no matter how he tries to slant the story to justify his actions. He's starting to see it isn't about whose wrong or right anymore. She needed him. He wasn't there. And the rest doesn't matter. He'll have to learn to live with the pain.

There are several new wrinkles in his life. As the already confusing web of Mystic Falls grows even more incestuous and sordid. He's wondering if it's impossible to kill Tyler. Calculating exactly what it would take to overpower Caroline and later get her to accept the move as the right decision. He's contemplating how to restrain Stefan and his old friend, blood lust. Then there's Jeremy's new Stephen King status and Katherine's black hole of soullessness.

And, as always, her. Klaus' new key to all things hybrid. Turning her into a vampire is always an option. Although she'd be on the run for the rest of forever. And he does remembers in vivid detail how against the move she was the last time her life was in danger. He doesn't know if his suddenly very weak heart can handle her contempt for all of eternity. No, it is Klaus who must be dealt with. Only he's not letting the clueless squad have control over the game plan. Disaster isn't striking on his watch again. He's pretty sure they've used their last get out of heaven free card.

He's trying his best at a brave face. But smiles and comfort aren't his style and she catches him struggling. It's oaky because she's struggling just the same. Most of her smiles are fake. And there's a war in her head too. Comfort can't help when you've forgotten what it feels like.

The first time he spends the night in her bed they are strategizing about Stefan and it's a test. To see if she'll let him. And he waits for two hours in complete stillness, expecting her to wake him up. Eventually drifting off for real.

When he jolts awake the sun is streaming through the curtains and their faces are inches apart. He blinks, trying to tell if this is yet another vivid dream starring her. But it's a new reality. One where he gets to wake up next to her radiating heat like a blast furnace.

They don't touch, their bodies curving around one another without any sort of contact, and for nearly any other pair it would be innocent. But they are not any other pair and to him this feels more intimate then their first and last kiss. Which had held only goodbye and no hope of beginning.

Not that he's hoping for a beginning. Isn't sure what it would look like if it happend. He's lived several lifetimes and never been in a relationship that didn't somehow involve deception. And her expectations differ drastically from his own capabilities. Neither can meet in the middle of their own extremes.

He has a hard enough time not destroying their tentative friendship as it stands. So right now he'll settle for being able to coax out smiles and the rare peal of laughter. For teasing her in that over lit kitchen while she makes lame chili for potlucks and guilty sandwiches for Jeremy and Alaric's lunch. He'll skulk around in the dark with her and keep her safe until he can't anymore. It's more then he expected. Greater access to her life then he's probably earned.

The second time he spends the night in her bed is uneventful. As are the third, fourth, and fifth. The sixth they still afford each other a chaste amount of space, but when Ric blunders in he's eyes widen like he's caught them in the middle of something salacious.

It is the seventh, because she is crying as the man she used to love cuts a bloody swath through their town, when she falls asleep in his arms. Her eyes are bloodshot, nose dripping, and her body shakes from exhaustion. He doesn't speak but he doesn't let go either. She expects him to be gone in the morning.

Jeremy's alarm in the next room wakes them both up in the morning. Tangled and warm from contact they have both slept dreamlessly. Her face is tilted into his neck, forehead pressed against his cheek. One of his arms is across her shoulders and the other snaked around her waist. He can feel the formerly steady but now slightly erratic beat of her heart against his side.

She takes a deep breath, pulls back to allow him to turn his heads towards her. All space has been lost. Her breath hits his face as they regard each other silently. She blinks something back and he can't tell if she's thinking about him or Stefan. One of their many pitfalls.

"Elena," he whispers. And she focuses, eyes flashing in the morning light. Seconds are meaningless when you're facing eternal life. But this one drags. Getting snared in the snarled mess of all that has changed and is changing still. He is conflicted, future rushing up to meet him. The distinction between reckless and regret blurring.

It may be a love story.


End file.
